


Words of Interest

by Yeahyouwish



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Top Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21847792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeahyouwish/pseuds/Yeahyouwish
Summary: The words that first interest you in a person are written on your forearm, starting with one word and increasing as your body grows until the quote is complete. Thus Hannibal recognizes Will right away. Will not so much.“I don’t find you that interesting.”“………..you will.”
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 242
Collections: 2019 Eat The Rude Secret Santa





	Words of Interest

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, nonexistenz! I hope you enjoy this soulmate AU!

It had taken Hannibal but a few seconds to realize it was happening when it occurred. Will had started to talk- Eyes are distracting, you see too much,-  
then something struck Hannibal as familiar- you don’t see enough. And- And. By the time he got to “it’s hard to focus,” Hannibal couldn’t stop grinning. 

So this… was his soulmate? 

The words had occurred so… quickly. They had hardly exchanged twelve sentences and Hannibal was already interested in his soulmate. For some reason, he thought it would be… slower. More agonizing. What a shock, to find that he was so easily impressed. 

Will didn’t seem to notice Hannibal’s predicament, though. He turned back to Jack and continued with the case. Hannibal prodded him: Will reacted. And so it began. 

Hannibal wondered once or twice, as he was going about his daily rituals, what would make Will realize that he did, after all, find Hannibal interesting. All his knowledge and all his mental prowess used up to impress Will with poetry, know-how, information about any subject, wit, and of course … aesthetical death. The beauty and art of killing. All of his intuition and understanding to find the words that impressed upon Will the seriousness of their relationship: to find, in essence, the words imprinted on Will’s wrist. 

But Will still remained clueless. By the time he had been released from prison and started seeing Hannibal in therapy again, Hannibal had, well, not given up…Trying to impress Will was not working, clearly. Perhaps he should relax a bit, and in his case, relaxing meant letting the mask slip. Giving Will a glimpse beyond the veil. 

He’d had to frame Will. He’d had to. It was the only way to show him that the Ripper was capable of great things, but also kind things. Taking credit for his work- letting Chilton of all people have that credit! He had shown Will so many precious things about the Ripper, and after all, it wasn’t that Will didn’t know who he was. Just that he still wanted to catch Hannibal. All this would change in time. 

Once, Will was wearing a shirt with a shorter sleeve length than usual and he reached out to grab something from Hannibal’s desk, only to play with it. Hannibal caught a tempting partial view of Will’s wrist and the black ink displayed there from birth. How it must of grown over the years, as Hannibal’s had. From the single word- Jack?- to something much longer, more clear. A show of personality unique to each individual. The first words a person spoke that really grabbed your attention. That made you interested in them. 

Hannibal unbuttoned his suit and shirt at the wrist that day when Will had left, to read his own inscription, rolling up his sleeve until the minuscule words on his wrist could be seen. He couldn’t see them all unless he removed his shirt, but he knew them by heart from his early adult years. “Eyes are distracting- you see too much, you don’t see enough. And- And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, um, ‘Oh, those whites are really white,’ or, ‘He must have hepatitis,’ or, ‘Oh, is that a burst vein?’ So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible. Jack?"

Of course Will would keep this part of himself hidden at all times. He didn’t want to be manipulated. Hannibal felt the same about his own mark. He once had a so-called lover use the words against him, leading him into a situation where she could say them naturally. Hannibal knew, though. This woman wasn’t worthy of him. He’d cut ties with her over her betrayal that very evening, but it was a year before she was on his plate, for his own security. 

Alana had told Hannibal in their early days of knowing Will together that she had seen the mark. She couldn’t remember the wording, but she told Hannibal that it was a very interesting one, and Will could hardly mistake his soulmate for someone else, with what was written there. Hers was interesting as well, as most people’s were. Unlike Hannibal and Will and the majority of people, she didn’t hide hers away. 

Like Hannibal, she said she would know for sure. “It’s not like just anyone could say, ‘this can be your entrance,’ and I’d fall for it. No, he’ll- or she’ll, maybe she’ll… be something different.” She told him once when she was studying, in answer to his curiosity about her short sleeves on the very first nice day of the year. 

But even if Hannibal had known what Will’s mark said, he wouldn’t want to rush the words. They would come. Will would see. 

***  
Will stood catatonic as he heard the words. He’d let Hannibal take the gun, but now that Hannibal was cupping his face there was no mistake: what he was saying was exactly what was written on Will’s forearm. 

"With all my knowledge” No. 

“and intuition” It couldn’t be. 

“I could never entirely predict you.” Please, no, not this.

“I can feed the caterpillar,” Never Hannibal.

“I can whisper through the chrysalis,” Beverly’s killer.

“but what hatches follows its own nature.” Abigail’s killer.

“and is beyond me.” The Ripper. 

Will was hardly home, bypassing for the first time in his life the greeting of his dogs to get inside. They walked around him politely, still well-trained not to jump, wagging their tails for attention as he stripped off his layers of clothing. He looked at the words, but he wasn’t sure why. He’d memorized them years ago. Most people did- it was something everyone saw daily and had to know about from the moment of their birth. 

He supposed he’d hoped they had miraculously transformed, or he was dreaming and somehow the nightmare would end if he saw that those words were not exactly the same. 

“me.” The first word to appear, now the last in the sentence. The words haunted him now. Hannibal had ruined everything! 

Will had, like many people, always loved his words. The context was absent, but he had narcissistically believed as the words appeared more and more over time that they were being spoken of him. “I could never entirely predict you.” When the sentence appeared in its entirety, Will was ecstatic about it. He’d been watching it for weeks, trying to make out the last word and leaning toward “I.” When it came in entirely and the next word had begun, Will had felt a great longing for his soulmate. 

“I could never entirely predict you. I can feed the caterpillar. I can whisper through the chrysalis, but what hatches follows its own nature and is beyond me.” That was the phrase at the age of fifteen, and Will was loving it. 

The last few lines had always demonstrated for him his soulmate’s poetry, aesthetics, intelligence. But now his soulmate was directly complimenting Will. 

“Though I am learned and interesting and artistic, I can’t predict you.” 

By the time he was eighteen, the words had grown to include “You are so much greater than my ability to see.” 

What kind of person was his soulmate that they had the confidence to praise their own skill such, yet the love to praise Will for conquering it? What kind of person must they be to say that Will was beyond their understanding, yet love Will with the passion that soulmates had?

And now…. Will had lost everything. Tears welled up in his eyes. 

All the intelligence, the art, the beauty, the praise, the worship for Will evident in these words, and it had been Hannibal this whole time. 

Will should feel elation- soulmates often spoke of that when the words were said. They had known that this was the real one, because they felt interest spike. They had known, because that person couldn’t have seen their wrist at any moment, too, but the real tell-tale sign was that, even after seeing these words on your wrist a million times throughout your life, when your soulmate said it suddenly they were interesting words again.

A teacher Will had been taught by once said it was like driving through the same mountain pass every day to work for years, and then one day you turn your head to see the mountains and the valley below the road and think- WOW. All this beauty was here the whole time and somehow I never really understood that it was so gorgeous! 

But Will didn’t feel any of that. He felt betrayed by his own body. He went to the kitchen and seized a knife, but it hovered just over his wrist. Even if he cut them clean off, it wouldn’t change anything. 

Maybe … maybe Hannibal had seen, somehow. Some people had. Alana had seen them when she came to visit after Abigail had woken up, Beverly when she stripped him. He tried to think of a time when Hannibal had seen him so unclothed. 

The first time Hannibal had come to the house, Will had seen him and immediately gone back in to put on a shirt with long sleeves. He’d always been so careful, strangely averse to Hannibal seeing his wrist, in the beginning. He didn’t trust him. The first few days, anyway. 

After that… he searched his mind, going through the days one by one. Not that day, not that day. But he knew that he wouldn’t have been paying as close attention anymore once he’d began to trust Hannibal. He might have had an… uh, slip of the wrist. 

He sat on the bed and at last began petting his dogs, though absentmindedly. Days and outfits floated down the river of his mind, checking, checking, checking. 

There was nothing he could directly recall. But Hannibal had been around Will all the days that he lost time- had made him loose time. He could have looked at any moment. He could have done a lot more than look. Will shivered at the thought, but he knew it was against the profile, against Hannibal’s nature, to take advantage of him sexually in that state. But just to see the words… 

Maybe someone had told him. Maybe… 

But the profile. Would Hannibal do that just to see what would happen? No, no, if he was saying those words it would be because he wanted Will. And such deceit… such cruelty…. It wasn’t beyond him. 

Wasn’t there a way to check? Wasn’t there? 

Will put his shirt and jacket back on. 

***

Will rang the doorbell with force, but he was already so impatient that he couldn’t wait for Hannibal to come to the door. He tried the handle but it was locked. He pounded. 

A disgruntled Hannibal opened the door a second later. There was no pause at all before Hannibal said, “Will!” with such evident surprise that if Will hadn’t been in a hurry he would have laughed. Hannibal didn’t easily show his emotions. 

Hannibal glanced behind himself, then said “the hour is late.” But Will was already pushing his way inside. He stood in the foyer, closed the door. Hannibal was still dressed and Will needed him undressed, to the waist, of course. Only the waist. 

No, wait. Why was Hannibal dressed? He’d said the hour was late but the clock said only ten. That really wasn’t that late. “What are you hiding?” He asked. Hannibal’s expression closed up immediately. 

Will moved forward. Hannibal blocked him with his body. “You killed someone.” Will said. 

“Please, Will.” 

“You don’t want me to see the evidence.” 

“You can’t- Will. Not- please.” The please caught Will’s attention and he looked in Hannibal’s eyes. “Please. Will.” 

It was then that Will remembered why he’d come. “Show me your forearm.” He said abruptly. 

Hannibal paused, but Will thought he’d seen a slight smile spread across his face before he contained it. “Did I say something interesting, Will?” He asked, voice suddenly much lighter than before. 

“Show me.” Will demanded again. He pulled at Hannibal’s suit, but Hannibal placed one hand on Will’s as he had earlier that day. 

“I will show you.” He said. 

Hannibal removed his jacket casually and unbuttoned his shirt to slip it off. Naked above the belt, he offered his hand to Will. 

“No…” Will said, tears threatening to overcome him again. “No.” 

Printed, nice as you like, across Hannibal’s forearm in handwriting suitably tiny to accommodate it up to the elbow, was: 

Eyes are distracting you see too much, you don’t see enough. And- And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, um, “Oh, those whites are really white”, or, “He must have hepatitis”, or, “Oh, is that a burst “vein?” So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible. Jack?

No one else would have spoken those words to Hannibal by accident. 

“Would you care to show me, Will? What, at last, managed to communicate your own interest in me to yourself?” 

Will looked in Hannibal’s eyes again. “You were trying?” 

“I had hoped that if I demonstrated my knowledge and intricacy to you that I might finally spark something within you and match the words on your wrist.” Hannibal admitted. “But of late, I’ve decided instead to let the mask slip. I thought it might be ultimately more helpful in drawing your interest.” 

Slowly, almost against his will, he slipped off his jacket. Hannibal watched patiently. Will didn’t undress entirely as Hannibal had. A glimpse would be enough for Hannibal to recognize them. As soon as the first words were bared, Hannibal smiled and said, “ah.” 

Tears fell from Will’s eyes for the first time, silent and stinging. Hannibal wiped them both away and embraced him. “You came here because you couldn’t be sure I hadn’t managed to discover what the words were. But my mark clearly proves it, Will.” He whispered. “We are meant to be.” 

Will silently shook his head into Hannibal’s chest, then he pulled away. “Then why? Why!? Why would you kill her, if you really loved me! Why would you kill her?!” 

“Will, you must trust.” Hannibal said evasively. 

Will shook his head, but then he paused. What if… what if…. 

Only an ear. One ear, not two. 

But the blood. 

No, he could have just… 

The tears stopped. Hope sprang up within him. “You didn’t, did you? You didn’t kill her.” He whispered. “Where is she, Hannibal?” 

Hannibal blinked. He hesitated, then put on his shirt. 

“Answer me, Hannibal!” 

Hannibal gestured inside the house and Will walked further in. “She only just arrived.” He said, and pointed with his whole hand up the stairs, almost in defeat- almost. Will gave him a look of utter longing, then went up at top speed. He stopped in front of the guest room and Hannibal graced the upper landing with him. 

“Abigail?” Hannibal said. Will’s heart beat faster than he could recall in his entire life. “Someone to see you.” 

Abigail opened the door tentatively, but as soon as she was there Will embraced her. “Will!” She said, surprised but smiling. She gave Hannibal a look that clearly said- a bit early, isn’t it? But Will couldn’t see it. 

“Abigail.” Will whispered, wetting her hair with his tears despite himself. He tried to contain, to get ahold of himself, stop sobbing like a child, but he couldn’t.

“Will…” She said, and realizing that this wasn’t going to end anytime soon, she hugged him tighter.

After a few moments, Will thought it might be getting strange for her and pulled back, trying to sober up. Abigail ducked into the room for a few seconds and got him a tissue. He felt better accepting it when he saw she was crying too, and was trying to conceal it in her own tissue. 

“Are?” She looked at Hannibal for guidance and Will felt a sudden sting of resentment toward him. “Are we leaving?” Abigail asked, clearly unsure. 

“No, Abigail. Please go back into the room. I need to discuss something with Will.” Hannibal said. 

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Will said. He took Abigail by the wrist, where he noticed there was still a letter coming in, and started to drag her towards the stairs. Hannibal moved to intercept him. 

“Will, please, the words.” 

“I don’t care, Hannibal. I don’t care if I had the words ‘Hannibal Lecter’s soulmate' tattooed across my head. You had-“ He paused, trying to contain his anger. He didn’t want Abigail to see him get so angry that she got scared and wouldn’t come with him. “You… you had no right, Hannibal. You had no right to do this.” 

“I did as was necessary.” 

“Necessary?!” 

“Yes.” Hannibal said seriously, standing his ground. 

Will felt Abigail flinch as he squeezed too hard and he let go. “I’m sorry.” He said, but the fear in her eyes was evident. 

“Will, let’s allow Abigail to go into the room. I don’t think she should see this.” 

“See what? You think we’re her parents now, Hannibal? You’re gonna tell me we’re her fathers now?” 

“Abigail, go into the room.” She nodded and closed the door behind her. Hannibal gave him a rather stern look. “You’re scaring her, Will.” 

“I should have known you would play with me like this!” Will said furiously. 

“Let’s move downstairs.” 

“You don’t care about me at all!” 

If Will hadn’t been so focused on Hannibal’s face, he might have missed the terrible moment of sheer pain as it passed by Hannibal’s features. Will knew in a split second that nothing could be less true, though Hannibal didn’t say anything else. 

Empathy. It was Will’s greatest weapon and his worst enemy. Worse by far than Hannibal, because Hannibal couldn’t make him feel bad about what he’d said, but empathy could. 

Why should he empathise with Hannibal, though, when it seemed that Hannibal was incapable of understanding Will- even by his own admission! Will knew he was twisting the words of Hannibal’s soul message, but he was so furious the last thing he wanted to do was understand Hannibal. 

Will glanced back at the door. Hannibal might hurt her if he was rejected now. He should be more careful, and Will knew he couldn’t leave her with him. 

“You feel that I don’t care for you, Will? You give me no sign that you could fall in love with me, but I am always patient. Now that you know for sure that you could have this gift- really know me- will you spurn it?” 

“You want me to understand? Maybe start with why you would do all of this to me? Just to prove how smart you are?” 

“You needed to see me to understand who I am.” Hannibal said. “I couldn’t change my nature any more than you can change what’s written on your arm.” He pointed with his whole arm downstairs, inviting Will gently to leave Abigail’s room. 

“You first.” Will said. 

Hannibal’s face was blank, too blank, when he turned to head downstairs. So Will didn’t trust him, then. Couldn’t even leave him on the landing without worrying that he would cut Abigail’s throat? Hannibal didn’t understand. He thought that Will would be able to see past that now. 

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Will said, “You threw me in a mental institution, Hannibal. You killed Beverly- that at least I’m sure of.” 

“Then you feel nothing but anger towards me?” 

“Why should I feel anything else?” Will spat back at him. 

“We are destined, Will. You please me, as a soulmate. Do I not please you?” 

Will hesitated. “You would have.” 

“Is it the Ripper or me that you’re incapable of loving?” 

Will raised his eyebrows and blinked. “What? Are we- are we still pretending that you’re not the Ripper?” Hannibal didn’t answer. “I’ve just seen Abigail, Hannibal.” Still, nothing. “What good is this question anyway- don’t pretend like you’d stop killing for me. No, no, you’d much rather mold me into something else.” 

“I can’t change you, Will. The words on your arm say just that.” 

“What: your whispers through the chrysalis not having the effect you intended?” 

“What I want for you is only your own becoming, Will. Nothing more.” 

“You want me to become like you. Or worthy of you.” 

“You’re worthy of me.” Hannibal corrected. 

Will sighed. “Because I interest you? Because of what’s on your arm, Hannibal?” 

“No. Perhaps it started that way. I was going through the motions before, maybe even doing, unconsciously, what society expected. I was drawn to you, yes, but I didn’t really think of you as my equal when we met. That is not how I feel now, Will.” 

Will stared at Hannibal for a long while. “I’ve always liked your words.” He admitted. “But I imagined my soulmate… somewhat differently.” 

“Of course. We all have expectations and even demands of our soulmates. But as your words are spoken, you must learn to accept that your soulmate is the one who stands before you and not the one that you made up in your head.” Hannibal said. It was as if they were therapist and patient again, sitting in Hannibal’s office, talking about something that had no stakes for Hannibal at all. 

Can you really be objective right now? Will wanted to ask, but he didn’t because he knew that what Hannibal had said was generally good advice, and something anyone might say to him. Alana, or even- his heart stung- Beverly. 

It seemed Hannibal couldn’t hold his gaze, though. He side stepped, offering Will the door. “Take her.” He said, and Will’s brow furrowed, sure he had misunderstood. “Take her and go. I saved her for you, and I know you won’t leave without her. But I hope you will think of me, Will. Think, and consider what you really want in a soulmate.” 

***

Will woke with a start and looked around wildly for Abigail. She wasn’t on the bed he’d given her, taking the floor himself, but just as he was panicking he saw her in a chair by the burning fire. She looked at him to see where the racket was coming from, then said, “Nightmare?” 

He stood up and went to sit in the chair next to hers. “Yeah.” He said, voice low. 

“I have them too.” She remarked to the flames. 

There was a long pause before she said anything else. She hadn’t spoken much the whole way there, and Will hadn’t either. He didn’t know what to say, after all. He’d gone up to tell her they were leaving. She’d asked if Hannibal was dead, but he wasn’t sure she believed him until they passed his stone-like figure in the hallway. All she said on the way there was that he hadn’t hurt her, when Will asked her, and that Will had ruined all of Hannibal’s plans. Yes, of course he had. 

“He wanted me to choose him, not you.” Will had told her. Then there was silence. He didn’t tell Jack that she was alive. He didn’t tell anyone. He wanted- needed- time to think. 

But here in front of the fire she broke the silence between them. “So Hannibal’s your soulmate?” 

Will tried not to clench his jaw as he nodded, not looking at her, though she was looking at him. 

“Do you love him?” 

Will paused. Then, slowly…. he nodded. It picked up speed when he looked at her. Then he stopped. “Your words aren’t in?” He asked, knowing the answer, but wanting the conversation.

“No. So far it says, 'looks like the sunlight. Is that your hair?’” She laughed a little. “Does that mean my hair looks like the sunlight? It’s brown.” 

He chuckled back. “Maybe they got distracted by your hair mid-comment.” 

“Seems like a weird thing to be interested in.” 

“Everything makes more sense in context.” He said, like everyone he’d known who’d had soulmates had always said to him, and suddenly he knew the truth of it as he’d never known before. 

“Can I see yours? Since you know who it is?” 

He nodded and handed her his wrist. Abigail took it and slowly, or maybe because the light was dim she couldn’t see it well, read the words. Then she looked up with a brilliant smile. “Hannibal always says interesting things. I can’t believe it took you this long to notice.” 

“He always says interesting things, that’s not the same as being interesting.” 

“So why?” She asked, letting go of his wrist. 

Will looked down. He knew the answer, but admitting it to her meant acknowledging out loud that he understood how fucked up he himself was. He took a deep but shaky breath. “I have all the facts now.” 

“You wanted to be with a serial killer?” Abigail asked, giving him a strange look. Warranted, he thought. 

“Not just because he’s a killer. Because he can change me. His whispers… his whispers shape me daily. What emerges will be…. partially Hannibal.” 

“Wouldn’t that mean he can’t predict himself?” 

Will gave her a sad smile. “Can anyone predict Hannibal?” 

“You seem to be able to do it.” She shrugged. “Which is, you know… I get how hard that must be.” His smile faded as she looked back into the fire. 

“Hannibal isn’t good for us.” 

“No.” Abigail said, the smile returning and her head tilting to the side. Her eyes betrayed a little fear the light caught them. “But I think we’ll never be bored.” 

“You don’t have to do this, Abigail. You can stay here and make a life for yourself.” 

“I want to.” She looked at him almost defiantly. 

“It’ll be dangerous.” 

“I think it’ll be a lot safer with both of you than just one of you.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“I think there can be a consensus.” She replied. “You’re soulmates.” 

As if that made everything better. 

“Meant to be.” Will said bitterly. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Abigail placed a hand on his shoulder. “We all got…” She let the hand drop and Will gave her a look probably too much like sympathy. “Stuff.” She said at last. 

“You don’t get to choose your family, Abigail.” 

“Or your soulmate.” 

“I can’t choose my soulmate, no. But I can reject my soulmate.” Will said. 

“You’d be rejecting yourself, too.” She reminded him. Will dropped his gaze, thinking. Abigail continued, “Other than the obvious, is there something about Hannibal you don’t like? Something tangible?” 

“Being a murderer and a cannibal isn’t tangible?” Will asked with a small, unhappy smile. 

“I mean, it’s … there. But everyone has to get over one thing or another, when it comes to soulmates, don’t they? Stinky feet. No cooking skills. Snoring. All of which I can vouch wouldn’t be an issue with Hannibal.” 

They laughed a little, but sobered quickly. “I think I’d prefer the snoring.” 

“Yeah.” Abigail said. She paused. “Me too.” 

“You should get some sleep, Abigail.” 

“I will if you do.” 

“Deal.” 

***

Abigail was there when Will got the call to come in and refused. “I’m sick, Jack.” She watched him say, looking directly in her eyes. “That… didn’t work out so well last time. No, I saw a doctor. It’s better I stay in.” A long pause. “I’m pretty contagious.” A longer pause, “Everything’s fine, Jack. I’m just.. sick.” 

Abigail was there when Will got the second call the next day while he was preparing some rabbit for them. He reiterated that he was sick and contagious, standing there healthy as a horse as Abigail smiled at him over the brim of her cup. When he hung up, she didn’t yet know that Jack had told Will that the attacks were made by a man who thought of himself as a kind of beast, and that Will knew that Hannibal was picking up his slack while he was unavailable.

All he said was, “Hannibal is sending us a gift.” 

“He is?” She asked, not excited. She knew Hannibal’s gifts could be a little unorthodox. 

“Yep.” 

“Do you know what it is?” 

“I’ve got… an idea.” Will said, and served her some rabbit and vegetables. 

Abigail was there when Randall came. She ran out with Will on hearing the dog yelp, but obeyed when he said to stay put. He came back carrying Buster at a full sprint. 

“Stand in the corner and don’t move. Here,” He handed her a knife and Abigail took it. “If he gets past me, defend yourself.” She nodded, holding it close to her stomach as he turned out the light. 

She stood in the corner as instructed as the beast tore through the window. Will killed him, and when he looked up at her she didn’t see any fear in his eyes. There was a kind of peace, and his eyes had unfocused, not like he had delved into himself to find the violence, but as if he was enjoying the intensity of the moment. 

He tried to stand up, face her, and she saw something like Hannibal flit across his face. 

But there wasn’t any fear in her eyes, either. No judgement, even. Only recognition. She helped him off the floor. “Is he dead?” 

Will nodded. 

“I thought you’d be more hesitant.” She said. She looked scared now, but not exactly of him. Perhaps of the violence in general. 

“I won’t hurt you.” He said anyway, just to be sure. 

“I know.” Abigail replied, smiling a little. “That’s not how you love me.” she added in a low voice. She took his hand and held it, looking at his bloody knuckles. “Did you…. was it fun?” She asked him, then looked into his eyes with curiosity. 

He looked back at her for a moment, then whispered, “We’ve all got… stuff.”

***

The clock stuck 7:30 and Hannibal went to the door. He paused for a long while before opening it, his usual pep upon coming to Will’s hour pushed aside to make way for anxiety and grief. He was surprised to see that Will was, in fact, on the other side. 

“Hello, Will.” 

Will nodded to him, then walked inside and stood with his back to Hannibal as he had on the day that he’d resumed his therapy. “We all have demands and expectations of our soulmates.” Will said, before Hannibal could fill the silence. “And we all must learn to accept that those expectations will or won’t be filled, depending on the situation but… I think some demands… can be made.” He faced Hannibal. “I’ll kill for you.” 

Hannibal felt a rush of emotion so extreme his ears began to ring. He was sure Will could hear his heartbeat stutter and increase by three times. But Hannibal said nothing. 

“In exchange for that, you will kill only who I say. You relinquish control of your choice of victim, I relinquish control of the…. inner darkness. This will be our consensus. Do you agree?” Will asked. “And you will accept our roles as soulmates?” Hannibal asked, his tone was light despite the turmoil of his mind and heart.

“I will accept them. And I will marry you. And we will run away with Abigail and we can be a family.” Will said, quietly, his voice never deviating from its tone. “If you agree.” 

Hannibal blinked. He hesitated, then he said, “I agree.” 

Neither of them looked down as their words burned bright blue, then dulled back to black. They were expecting it, after all. The bond, which usually sealed at the time of marriage, was complete. This pact meant more by far than any they made with a priest present. 

Hannibal stepped forward first, but Will was first to reach out, and Hannibal could see his hands were shaking. It was a fine thing, to realize that Will was as scared and unsure as he was. Hannibal felt undressed, but at least Will was naked as well. 

Will leaned in as Hannibal took his hands into his own, and nestled his head against Hannibal’s heart. In turn, Hannibal felt Will’s pulse- a hundred miles a minute. Well, once again, they were both betrayed by their bodies. 

“I love you, Hannibal.” Will said. Hannibal held back tears, blinking them away ferociously lest they spill. 

“I love you, Will. I will always love you.” 

***

One Year Later

***

Will rinsed his hands in the basin as Hannibal pressed the meat on the counter, his muscles straining and his body rocking. Will was watching Hannibal over his own shoulder and couldn’t help the slow smile that spread over his face. “You gotta cook this now?” 

Hannibal paused, and Will knew his mouth was curved up in a knowing smile. “I would prefer to have it done when Abigail gets home.” He said, but his tone suggested it wasn’t mandatory. 

Will chuckled and draped both arms around his neck to hug him, standing on tip toe. Hannibal took a deep breath of his scent, closing his eyes. 

“I’m hot.” Will told him. 

“I noticed.” Hannibal said, but it wasn’t unexpected that Will was randy after a kill. 

Will tried to tempt him off of cooking by leaving wet little kisses up and down the side of his throat, and Hannibal had to admit it was working. He closed his eyes and paused in his ministrations. Encouraged, Will reached his hands under Hannibal’s waistline to pull his shirt out, then ran his hands up Hannibal’s stomach. “You should pay your soulmate a little attention, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal sighed, but not unhappily. “Let me wash my hands at least.” He told Will. 

Will let go, backing off with his hands spread in the air and a chuckle to show his cooperativeness. Hannibal washed up to his elbows very well, then wiped his hands on a dry towel. Finally he wrapped them around Will’s waist to kiss him. 

Will wasted no time in deviating from Hannibal’s lips, leaving more sloppy kisses over his jaw to his ear. Hannibal let out a sigh of bliss when Will reached his ear and bit down on it. Will chuckled. “Like that?” He asked, and though Hannibal didn’t answer he could feel him smile. He ran his hands back under Hannibal’s shirt to feel him up as Hannibal cupped his face with both hands and kissed Will quite passionately. 

Will pushed away gently after a minute and took Hannibal’s wrist to guide him to the bedroom. “The meat…” 

“Only for a minute.” Will said, but Hannibal knew that this could take anywhere from a half an hour to all night. He should be cooking, but he couldn’t resist the draw of Will’s kiss. Besides, Will wouldn’t leave him be until he was sated. Perhaps if he pleased him he could at least start on dinner before returning to the bed. 

Will certainly wasn’t wasting any time. He had Hannibal get down on all fours on the bed immediately. Unbuttoning his slacks from around Hannibal’s waist, he pulled them down. Hannibal heard Will undo his pants from behind him, but he didn’t look. It was exciting him, not knowing for sure what Will was doing. He did hear the drawer open and close, so lubricant was at least involved. 

Without much warning, not that he needed it in any case, Will pressed his cock to Hannibal’s entrance and began to move forward, nice and easy. Hannibal was well past the point where Will needed any preparation. He fit like a glove, tight, but comfortable. Hannibal let out a sigh almost of relief. “Fuck you feel good.” He heard Will mutter. 

It was true for Hannibal as well. The press of Will’s cock inside was incredible, filling him up without stretching too much. He was set inside Hannibal so that if Hannibal just lowered himself… He did so, until Hannibal’s forehead was resting lightly on the pillow, and he felt Will shift a little. “There.” He whispered when Will hit the spot. 

Will grasped Hannibal’s ass with both hands, leaving the control up to his partner, and said, “Move.” 

Hannibal began to thrust back, angling his body so that Will would get an attractive view of Hannibal’s straining back and shoulders, while Hannibal got the full benefit of a cock pressing against his prostate with every thrust. Will was a good fit for him, physically- well. His soulmate, after all. Hannibal let himself make little gasps of pleasure whenever he drove down on Will, and Will made them in return. 

Will was, in fact, getting very loud. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck! Yes! Fuck, Hannibal!” He screamed and moaned as Hannibal kicked his hips and legs back and forth to set the pace. It was hard work of course, but Will’s erotic moans and vocal pleasure were a good motivator for him. 

Hannibal began to pant with the labor of it, his leg muscles aching for rest, but he didn’t stop until Will pushed him down on the bed further. “Undress and lay out.” He said, and Hannibal obeyed. He could hear Will struggling to get out of his clothes as quickly as possible behind him. 

Will straddled Hannibal and pushed inside to the hilt again, moaning lecherously as he did so. Hannibal’s hands grasped the pillow his head was laying on. Then Will began to do micro-thrusts, never quite leaving the prostate, but building pressure there constantly as he went a few centimetres out and back in, until Hannibal was moaning near continuously into the sheets, and weeping to boot. 

Will always did this kind of thing to him. His emotions out of check, his need spiralling until… 

Will took a deep breath of Hannibal’s hair. His arms were snaking under Hannibal’s pits and up to flank his face on both sides to support Will’s position, and they were doing most of the work, but that allowed his body to slide against Hannibal’s back, giving Will the erotic feeling of closeness he was having now. Never mind the pain of holding himself up this way: he was touching Hannibal not just intimately, but so close that he could feel Hannibal’s laboured breathing below him. Will wasn’t sure if he was crushing Hannibal with his weight, as light as he was, but if that was the case, Hannibal was still loving it. He was practically screaming now. 

Hannibal was always calculated and cool during the kill, but Will could bring him to his knees with ease. Remembering the predatory glint in Hannibal’s eyes was really doing it for Will, though. He took a few more excited grinds, then shot off in Hannibal, moaning loudly. 

Feeling Will’s release, Hannibal knew that he could push himself over if he tried. He took a deep breath of Will’s scent from above him and thrust his naked cock into the silk sheets below him as Will’s seed filled his ass. Hannibal tuned into Will’s body so he could feel the twitching of his cock as it unloaded and the hot breath in his hair from Will’s panting. The combination of sensations- the warmth of Will’s arms under his own arms, the sweaty slick slide of his chest on Hannibal’s back, the brush of his lips on Hannibal’s neck- drove him over and Hannibal came on the sheets in spurts. 

He untensed just seconds after he felt Will completely relax his weight onto him. They lay there panting for a moment, then Will found the strength to pull out slowly and roll off of Hannibal. 

All the tracks going at once in Hannibal’s mind had been on hold for a moment to be there with Will and experience orgasm, but now they split and continued along their usual paths. The strongest one was the one that said, “Go cook dinner for your family, Hannibal.” He sighed. 

“I need to cook some dinner. The meat will spoil.” 

Will made a little grunting noise. 

“I’ll be back in forty minutes.” 

Will made a second, more interested grunting noise. Hannibal smiled down at him, a perfect picture just laying on the sheets naked.

The last thing he did when he got up was kiss the words on Will’s wrist.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews  
> Hey peeps, I know this one is a secret Santa so I more or less wrote it for one person! But a lot of you are reading it and might have ideas.
> 
> I take constructive criticisms. I want to be a better writer. Examples include incorrect chracterization, leaving editing notes in the document (oops, I do this!), or if you think a phrase or word would perhaps better express what I’m trying to get across. 
> 
> If you liked this, or if you think I could do better and you specifically know how, please let me know in a review. 
> 
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